


but you deserve my apology

by blarneythedinosaur



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Guilt, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm new hi, Idiots in Love, Insecurity, Miscommunication, No Plot/Plotless, Post-Break Up, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Unresolved Emotional Tension, cuz i wrote this with shipping goggles tf ON, i love that this tag is used for ep 6 fix-its so much, thus is the duality of man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22747633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarneythedinosaur/pseuds/blarneythedinosaur
Summary: "You... Jaskier, youdon'tdeserve my forgiveness."Jaskier winced and turned his attention purposefully to the floorboards."I know-""No, I don't think you do know." Geralt grabbed Jaskier by the shoulders and ducked his head to intercept the man's averted gaze. "You've done nothing that warrants apology."Jaskier gave an uncomfortable laugh and fidgeted under the attention. "...Okay, I think webothknowthat'snot true – There are reasons- and some admittedly valid ones -that I'm banned from certain taverns, villages, kingdoms- I mean, no amount of lute-playing-"aka. post-episode 6 semi-fix-it, wherein Geralt and Jaskier try to apologize to each other after the whole mountain incident, but they're both dumbasses (perhaps the only in-character detail of this whole fic)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 112





	but you deserve my apology

**Author's Note:**

> this starts in, like, the middle of a conversation cuz my impatient ass cant do exposition. so, for clarity's sake, it's after the incident on Mt. Oops-I-Instinctively-Push-Everyone-Away, and it's been a good long while since theyve last seen each other (months, because my mind is small and inexperienced and cant fathom very long periods of time), and theyre talking in, like... a tavern or some shit, i dunno. standard non-dangerous-type witcher setting. this was just a page of setting-less, stage-direction-less dialogue not 3 hours ago, so. oh and also geralt sought out jaskier. cuz im soft for softgeralt realizing he needs people
> 
> the title was halfassed, and it applies as being said from our lads to each other, but also from me to you cuz youre about to read my bullshit, sorry, have fun!
> 
> (i wrote this mostly for myself, so enjoy it or dont. but, also, i crave acceptance, so please enjoy it)
> 
> (also, my only experience with the witcher is the tv series. i know very little of the books and games)
> 
> (alsoalso, if there are any typos or spelling-/grammar-errors, please let me know, im a lousyass perfectionist and would love to fix them)

Jaskier and Geralt had gone for much longer than this without seeing each other, but this had somehow felt like their longest time spent apart ever. He'd been anxious to see Jaskier – eager, almost. But... their greeting had been awkward, tense, brief- nothing Jaskier ever said was brief -and Geralt felt no small amount of fear at what any of this meant. It made the hairs at the back of his neck rise like a stalked animal's.

It was _wrong_.

There was so much unspoken, unaddressed, and hanging in the air over them, Geralt could feel it nearly tangible. For once, Geralt broke the silence first.

"What I said... before," he began, noting the way Jaskier tensed. "I know it was wrong."

Jaskier cleared his throat uncomfortably. "No. No, it uh..." he swallowed, "it wasn't."

"It was-"

" _No_ ," he insisted more firmly. "Trust me, I've had a lot of time and space to reflect on this, and _you weren't wrong_ – I was _stupidly_ selfish. With the djinn, with the betrothal celebration, with Yen, with... just everything, every one of those times. I was acting only for myself, and no one else, and bad things happened to good people for it. You wouldn't be in such a horrific fucking mess right now if not for- if I had just _thought_ first, for one fucking second in my life. I never think, and..." He took a measured, steadying breath. "Well, I can't imagine I could ever deserve your forgiveness, but, at the very least, you deserve my apology." He met Geralt's eyes now. "And I am sorry. I truly am, Geralt."

Geralt expected to feel some kind of relief at the eye-contact, at the sound of his name spoken once again in his friend's voice, a blessed familiarity after months without it. And it was still there, that vague feeling of home in each other when neither of them really had much of a home otherwise, but it was tainted. The burdened remorse in Jaskier's words turned any sweetness Geralt might have found in them sour. He frowned.

"You... Jaskier, you _don't_ deserve my forgiveness."

Jaskier winced and turned his attention purposefully to the floorboards.

"I know-"

"No, I don't think you do know." Geralt grabbed Jaskier by the shoulders and ducked his head to intercept the man's averted gaze. "You've done nothing that warrants apology."

Jaskier gave an uncomfortable laugh and fidgeted under the attention. "...Okay, I think we _both_ know _that's_ not true – There are reasons- and some admittedly valid ones -that I'm banned from certain taverns, villages, kingdoms- I mean, no amount of lute-playing-"

"You know what I mean."

"Well, yes, but I don't understand it."

Jaskier met his eyes evenly, now, as if daring Geralt to try to rationalize it to him and certain he was placing a bet he couldn't lose.

Geralt felt his chest ache – guilt, confusion; worst of all, pity. He hated seeing pity thrown his way, and so he hated pitying others, especially anyone that meant something. But he couldn't help the twinge of pain at the realization that some part of Jaskier had _believed_ Geralt up on that mountain all those months ago. Geralt knew better than anyone that the only way you could so comfortably and unquestioningly accept the poison fed to you by others was if you were already drinking the same poison from your own hand and calling it "water." He couldn't bear to imagine his so-spirited, so-confident friend doing this, but the evidence was there.

"I shouldn't have said the things I said," Geralt asserted. "They're not true."

Jaskier's eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, and he started to shake his head.

"Jaskier, _I'm_ sor-"

"Please don't."

It was fragile and small, and Geralt almost questioned if it had actually been spoken aloud at all.

"Jas-"

"No, you- you _can't_ take it back now," Jaskier said more audibly, shoving at Geralt's arms in a weak attempt to force some distance between them, "I was just starting to get over y- to... to get over what happened. And, if you take it back, _now_ , then- then... Just _don't_ take it back."

"I can't do this without..."

"Yes, actually, you can." Jaskier's face lit up hopefully, desperately. "You _have_."

"I don't want to."

"Then find someone."

Someone.

Geralt hadn't just meant he couldn't do this _alone_. Though he couldn't, of course – but that didn't matter, because he _wasn't_ alone, anymore. Yet, even as not-alone as he was, he still didn't feel whole.

A huff of frustration forced its way out of his nose. How was he supposed to _say_ any of that?

"Who?" Geralt intended it to be rhetorical, but Jaskier took the question at face-value and barreled on.

"Yennefer!- What about Yennefer?" he offered eagerly, "Of Vengerberg?" as if there were any question as to which Yennefer he meant, " _Surely_ you two have made up by now, I mean even _I'll_ admit you're somewhat of a power couple – but, y'know, extra emphasis on 'power.' Or- Or if not, then Téa? You seemed to like her and her man-killing prowess, yes?- I mean, I sure did, her and Véa, whoo, they are... _terrifying_. I'm sure they must take _some_ time off from Borch-guarding, no? No, you're right, probably not. Then how about the child surprise- they _are_ your destiny, after all, you're welcome for that – _Or_ , if you're looking for a bard, specifically, there are plenty of others – not as good as me of course, but decent enough- I know a guy who-"

"Jaskier."

"What? No good? I mean, I suppose you could always put out an ad-"

" _Jask_."

Jaskier's nervous rambling died off in a shaky breath that sounded like it was meant to be a laugh, and he turned his full attention back to Geralt cautiously. His forced smile wavered at the soft sobriety in Geralt's expression.

Geralt dropped his hands from Jaskier's arms and took half a step back, ignoring his fear at giving the man enough space to walk away again.

"If you really mean it," Geralt stressed, "then I will leave you alone." A selfish something inside of him twisted at hearing the words out loud, but he let them hang in the air anyway, committed to respecting whatever answer Jaskier gave next.

"...Alright."

"Do you mean it?"

The silence that followed was more stifling than any yet that Geralt had had to endure in the bard's absence. Heavy and air-stealing.

Despite the uncertain pause, there was a sudden sureness on Jaskier's face that scared Geralt, and he instinctively braced himself as Jaskier opened his mouth to answer.

"No."

Geralt exhaled in silent relief. He hadn't noticed the breath caught in his chest until the moment he released it. He composed himself quickly; a show of weakness could probably help his case dramatically in winning back Jaskier's companionship, but it was tough enough showing as much vulnerability as he already had. Unlearning such a habit as ingrained into him as this one was like tearing a security blanket away from a homesick toddler, and the homesick toddler in Geralt was already veering dangerously into tantrum territory.

Despite the vulnerability of all this, he felt a noticeable lightness in his chest. Jaskier didn't hate him enough to never want to see him again – that was _something_. He'd take what he could get and he'd take it gladly.

He was trying to figure out what to say next – Geralt felt cursed, sometimes, with only being lightning-quick with his response if it was a wounding insult or a wordless grunt – but Jaskier figured it out before he did.

"Did _you_ mean it?" he turned Geralt's question back on him.

Geralt blinked. "Did...?"

Jaskier looked at him pointedly.

"Oh."

Geralt felt shame and regret draw his shoulders up toward his ears, and he looked away.

"I... I thought I did," he admitted.

"I thought you did, too."

"I'm... sorry, Jaskier, I... You..." The words still wouldn't come to him.

Geralt didn't _do_ words, but even he could see that there weren't many he could use to fix something that clearly went deeper than just some hurtful accusations thrown carelessly about on a godsforsaken mountaintop somewhere.

He shut his mouth, frowned.

Caring was so much more complicated than he always feared it would be. It wasn't just kill the monster, claim the reward, and go on pretending it didn't matter to him what happened after he left, anymore. The stakes were higher, more personal. This kind of care wasn't the kind that was a whole town of faces where none grabbed his attention long enough to be committed to memory, it was individual faces that he _knew_ and _recognized_ , faces that meant something – and _this_ face was Jaskier's, one of the faces that meant the most. He wanted to reach out and erase the worried furrow between his brows, the tired shadows under his eyes, the modest handful of scars he'd amassed over the years traveling with Geralt.

But he'd leave the crow's feet – those held mostly happy memories.

Jaskier was one of those few people he so desperately wanted in his life, but wished didn't have to experience the hurt of it all.

"Jaskier, you..."

The concept Geralt was still trying ever valiantly to skirt around was family. And his was so very small and fragile, he couldn't bear to lose one piece of it, not for anything...

"You should really meet Ciri," he decided.

Jaskier brightened at this, a small smile crinkling his eyes. "You found her," he said.

Geralt nodded, a smile of his own taking shape.

"Alright. Lead the way."

**Author's Note:**

> oh man, i can't believe im finally sharing my first fanfic? yknow, i havent really shared any form of creative writing at all with anyone since, like, middle school - well, barring teachers, but like. that doesn't count. honestly, the amount of times i got an A on the same copy-pasted bullshit essay in eleventh grade english... (and then the ONE time the teacher actually read my damned work, id gotten cocky and threw in a "doubt you'll even read this but whatever" and she called me out in front of the whole class and i almost anxiety cried cuz im All-Bark-but-No-Chill Rudy, but i digress)
> 
> also, im operating under the assumption that, like, most folk know that princess cirilla is, like. exists. since shes the princess of cintra. and that jaskier falls under the category of "most folk" while geralt's kinda just a dumbass (for which we love him dearly) so he never realizes that he could literally just ask someone and find out that "hey, yeah, theres a princess in cintra, only one, she's the only princess, the sole child of pavetta and duny therefore making her their only child and only heir who also happens to be a girl- yknow, a princess. her name is ciri, short for princess cirilla of cintra cuz shes a princess. by very brief process of elimination, ciri is your child surprise. ciri. the princess."
> 
> anyway, thanks so much for reading all the way through to the end! (or i guess you coulda just hit the "see end notes" link, but im just gonna stick with you-read-my-shit-all-the-way-through-to-the-end to spare my ego. so thank you!)


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